


The Flavor of Ashes

by attaccabottoni



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attaccabottoni/pseuds/attaccabottoni
Summary: If he didn’t cry, he could pretend that he didn’t long for the sound of his mother’s warm voice.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	The Flavor of Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> _(Edited to add: Written before the release of Visions of V chapter 25.)_

Even with all the swords piercing through his body, Vergil has only one thought in his mind. He hoped Dante was far away. He would hate to see Vergil in pain.

As he watched his blood flow out from him, he was desperately glad for the end, just as much as he was afraid to die.

_“Kill them all.”_

_What?_

_“Are you expecting to be saved? That is the thinking of a child. You are a demon.”_

_It hurts._

_“Pain is but a tool. You only need to survive it.”_

_I’m afraid._

_“Fear is a wasteful emotion. I will help you, but you will give me something in return.”_

_What is that?_

_“More power.”_

_I accept._

Something from within his core exploded, whiting out his vision and taking his consciousness with it.

* * *

_“You need to leave. This place will not hinder further attacks.”_

“There is something I would like to confirm for myself.”

_“Are you thinking like a child again? There is nothing left for you to do but to grow stronger.”_

“I need to see with my own eyes...”

He pushed open the front doors, and limped on until the sight of a trail of blood leading to a familiar red shawl stopped him in his tracks.

_“How pitiful. Without strength, she could not protect herself, let alone her sons.”_

Vergil had nothing to say to that, so he did not speak.

_“The price to pay for being a weak human is to suffer until your last breath.”_

He knelt before the cold and empty shell of his mother. The voice was right. His mother was dead because of him, and his brother was gone. There was nothing for him here.

_“All this useless suffering has no meaning. Throw away this mortal flesh. Only then can you escape this fate.”_

“Let me stay here for a while.”

_“Very well. Rest. I will keep watch.”_

* * *

Vergil stared at what used to be his mother one last time, before turning away.

“Are you going to kill me now?”

_“Why would I? I am you.”_

“When you said to throw away my mortal flesh, I thought you meant for me to die.”

_“I told you I would help you. You are a demon, and you should act accordingly.”_

“What should I do?”

_“Nothing else has value but power. Your human sadness and suffering are holding you back, and will only lead you to defeat and death.”_

“But I have all these things.” He swallowed hard. If he didn’t cry, he could pretend that he didn’t long for the sound of his mother’s warm voice. That he didn’t want to curl up beside his mother’s body forever. “I miss Mother. I miss Father. I miss Dante. I don’t have anyone else. I don’t know how else to be but human. And if that makes me the enemy, then I don’t how to be a demon and fight.”

_“Then sleep. Let me fight for you.”_

* * *

Yamato was keyed to respond to the blood of Sparda, and when such a substantial offering awakened her, she took the opportunity to unfurl from her core and stand once more after two millennia of slumber.

If she were given to be easily surprised, she would have gawped at the child no taller than her knee in front of her, his diminutive body rigid with his own shock, yet forced into stillness unnatural for his age.

One whiff told her that it was his blood that covered his hands and stained his clothing. This was a son of Sparda. That should grant him her cautious respect.

“I am Yamato,” she greeted him, letting the full force of her demonic energy out from being banked and contained after so long. “I served Sparda in countless battles. How may I assist you?”

At the mention of his father’s name, his large eyes narrowed. Or winced with pain. It has been a long time since she had seen anyone’s face, casting meaning to human looks was a skill she has yet to reclaim. “My family was killed,” he said, fury turning his young voice into a raspy hiss, his hands clenching into tight fists that his fingernails had to be biting into his palms. “I will find out who is responsible, and I will make them pay. For that, I need more power.”

With those few words, she was certain without a doubt that within that small frame was enough determination to cut down everything in his path, even the very fabric of space between worlds.

Here was a worthy master. There was no higher honor than to pledge her service to him.

“What is your name?”

His posture shifted to command. She liked him already. “I am Vergil.”

“Vergil,” Yamato repeated, kneeling before the child, and placing a hand over her heart. “My blade is yours, against your enemies.”


End file.
